


Hobbies

by Remember When (scribblemyname)



Series: Comment Fic LiveJournal Stories [213]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Community: comment_fic, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Matchmaking, Multi, Romantic Fluff, Snipers, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4139523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/pseuds/Remember%20When
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her hobbies are trashy romance novels and throwing her legs over both of theirs on the couch while commenting acerbically on Clint's Dog Cops marathons—"Hey! Respect the badge." "They're <em>dogs,</em> Clint."—and scheming who to matchmake with whom while getting Bucky's advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hobbies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [storiesfortravellers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/gifts).



> Prompt by daria234 at the LJ Comment Fic comm: [MCU, Sam/Tony or Steve/Bruce or Bucky/Clint/Natasha, common hobbies](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/600889.html?thread=83759929#t83759929)

All three of them dance. It's easy to brush off curious glances from their teammates with a "night on the town" excuse. There's three of them and dancing is a public affair.  
  
"Who taught you swing?" Bucky asks Clint.  
  
He grins and gives the same maddening answer he gives about most of his skills. "Circus. I kind of prefer trapeze though."  
  
Natasha shushes him with a soft kiss on the mouth, then drags Bucky out onto the floor to dance in each other's arms. Her body knows the steps of a different age, no less fun for being older than she is.  
  
She grins at him and he wonders why he thinks she wasn't made for swing dance.  
  
"I only tango for a mark," she tells him abruptly, as though reading his mind, then smiles. "It's not one of my hobbies."  
  


* * *

  
  
Her hobbies are trashy romance novels and throwing her legs over both of theirs on the couch while commenting acerbically on Clint's Dog Cops marathons—"Hey! Respect the badge." "They're _dogs_ , Clint."—and scheming who to matchmake with whom while getting Bucky's advice.  
  
"I think Maria and Sam should spend more time together." She prods Bucky's shoulder with the corner of her book. "They like each other."  
  
"They don't even know each other," Clint comments dryly.  
  
Natasha ignores Clint and raises one eyebrow at Bucky.  
  
He shrugs and tucks his face against her shoulder to breathe in her warm, clean scent for a moment. She lets him. "I wouldn't know," he says finally. "Matchmaking's not one of my hobbies."  
  


* * *

  
  
His hobbies are exchanging trash talk and marksmanship contests with Clint. They switch it up, rifles and bows and handguns. Bucky hates conceding defeat.  
  
"Buck up, James," Natasha comments wryly from the side, where she's throwing knives into targets with almost inhuman accuracy. "He makes me look like a bad shot too."  
  
"Yeah, and I'm a kindergartner after a paintball fight in hand to hand compared to you." Clint snorts. "Don't expect me to feel guilty."  
  
Bucky shrugs, takes another shot. He's still got it; he's still good and still a sniper, but "Let's go get some drinks."  
  
He's got other hobbies they're all of them good at.  
  


* * *

  
  
They get those drinks and tell stories of their near misses and almost deaths in hostile territory, on complex missions. They dance, pairing off almost randomly, then switching partners. They flirt, they liven things up, and they go home afterward to shove each other against the walls of Natasha's room, then settle into a comfortable, rough rhythm with Natasha between them.  
  
They lie tangled up on the bed afterward, and Bucky thinks this is the best part of what they have in common.  
  
"Don't hog the covers," Clint mumbles hypocritically, halfway to sleep and conveniently forgetting he's the worst offender.  
  
Natasha pushes and pulls Bucky a little until she's comfortable, using his shoulder as a pillow. "What do you think of Sharon? I think Steve's avoiding her just because I think they'd be good together."  
  
Bucky laughs. No one ever could take care of Steve, the little rascal bound to get into trouble anyway. "I like Sharon."  
  
It's worth it to indulge her to see Natasha's smile.


End file.
